


Wrong place, Wrong time

by magpiedeployed



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, kapkans kind of an asshole, smoke/mute is mentioned, there was an attempt at smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-07 00:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20515703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpiedeployed/pseuds/magpiedeployed
Summary: Some things are better left unheard, unseen, and unspoken.Unfortunately for Kapkan, fate seems to think otherwise.





	Wrong place, Wrong time

**Author's Note:**

> wow first work i've finished for this fandom and holy shit was it a bit of a wild ride. i'm not the best at writing smut which is kind of 60% of this fic whoops yet i hope to improve.
> 
> this initially was only supposed to be like 3k words but uh-i got carried away and fell in love with this pairing and these two idiots.  
hope you like it <3

It’s happening. Again.

The soft husked breathing resonating quietly from inside the dark abyss that is Fuze’s room in the Spetsnaz operator’s shared barracks should’ve been the first warning sign for Kapkan to get the hell out of the proximity, and anyone with a shred of dignity would’ve realized this however all of that died with Kapkan years ago. As stated before, this wasn't the first time Kapkan had to bear witness to the sounds of his coworker's fucking. The first time had been about roughly two months ago after Kapkan had returned early from a night of unhealthy social drinking due to contracting a very sudden stomach bug that made him queasy from just existing. Kapkan didn't stay around long enough to investigate that night-there wasn't a need to. It was obvious what was happening behind the closed doors from the euphoric sounds that echoed throughout the area, and Kapkan cringed at the thought of any one of his other teammates walking in on him standing around like a moron while their coworkers got off in another room because how could anyone explain _that_. 

Calloused fingers toyed lazily with the sharpened blade of Kapkan’s pocketknife, rough fingers dancing nimbly against the sharp blade as he tuned curiously into every soft gasp, shushing, and quiet whimper that-much to Kapkan’s disdain-surged a curious arousal throughout him that sent blood rushing straight to his crotch. Glaz and Tachanka weren’t anywhere nearby. Glaz was away somewhere with a sketchbook and pencil in hand, mumbling something about a much needed respite from his fellow countrymen, before striding off and insulting everyone but Fuze who had grown to be indifferent to Glaz’s antisocial tendencies. Tachanka on the other hand had been invited to go out drinking with Smoke, Mute, Thatcher, and Thermite, immediately favoring the idea of getting shitfaced with whoever was willing to bear the storm that is Tachanka over sitting around lazily with his teammates. Kapkan couldn’t blame him, the lack of excitement recently was certainly putting him on edge too. Or maybe that was just because of the soul-chilling sound of his coworkers getting off in the other room that made him feel edgy. He couldn’t tell.

Kapkan didn’t even realize he’d begun digging the blade of his knife into the depths of his thumb before a particularly sharp groan and shush jolted him out of his daze, inadvertently causing the Spetsnaz operator to further bury the treasured weapon into the skin in surprise. Grimacing at the deep cut on the pad of his thumb, Kapkan set the piece of weaponry to the small mahogany coffee table situated adjacent to the uncomfortable lounge-chair he was seated in. Kapkan abruptly got up, multiple gears turning in his head that worked to appease the ever growing curiosity pooling in his gut. A sudden fear creeped through his mind at the baffling idea of being caught in this situation even though he knew that the others were out doing their own thing and would likely not make a return any time soon. That being said, Kapkan’s eyes sleazily drifted towards Fuze's room.

I really shouldn’t. I really_ fucking shouldnt_. Played like a broken record in his mind, because this was bad. What he _should_ , however, is give Fuze and Jäger their space and privacy that they so rightfully deserved and _expected_ to have. It wasn’t their fault Kapkan had decided to return to their barracks at an unusually early time than he normally did, and he really should just take a leisurely stroll and come back when the duo finished their act of intimacy.

But… Each second Kapkan stood preening into the sounds of his coworkers spurred the Russian operator on even more and before the man even realized it, he started to subconsciously move towards the direction of Fuze’s room stopping right on the outskirts of the doorframe. The door of the room was left open a crack and was no doubt the source for why the two men’s activities were being broadcasted so loudly. louder than normal, he thought with a frown at the addition of “normal“. because having comparable information of this certainly wasn’t normal.

_ So careless._ The constructive part of Kapkan’s mind thought bitterly at the laziness exhibited by the two normally controlling and careful operators. As far as Kapkan was aware, this relationship between the Uzbekistan and the German was unknown between most if not all of the other operators in Rainbow for reasons Kapkan perfectly understood. Jäger on one hand was probably intimidated by the prospect of PDA, and the attention that’d be drawn to them. And Fuze, having been born in a country where the simple act of homosexuality could be a prison sentence and the societal disdain towards it in his adopted country, probably held the hateful social norms to his heart and let it eat at his mind as an imprintation from home and Kapkan couldn’t judge him for it either. He hated to admit that seeing the two operators together on base gave him a tiny, almost minuscule, feeling of disgust- though Kapkan would immediately shake it off with shame. The rather oppressive social viewings towards homosexuality from his own country and growing up with a family that was not so pleasant towards it rubbed off on him and would probably forever leave a mark that would never go away and he reckoned it was the same with Fuze.

Another harsh intake of breath snapped Kapkan out of his thoughts and before he’d even realized it he was already walking closer towards the door cautiously, being mindful of the open space in the door that’d give him away. Kapkan keened into the softer muffled sounds omitting from the room, shame burning throughout his core alongside arousal at his embarrassing interest.

“Shuhrat, please-what if someone hears and comes in?” A chuckle could be heard from inside the room following the ironic concern, Its icy demeanor could only be affiliated with Fuze. 

“Nobody will come, моя любовь. Everyone is out doing something else.” The irony of it all almost gave Kapkan whiplash, and he almost laughed at just how wrong Fuze was. The slick sounds of their lovemaking echoed throughout the room. Everything,_ it was all too much_. The delicious sounds sung a beautiful melody to his sexual frustration that tore away at every bit and piece of Kapkan’s dwindling self control. Kapkan gave the evidence of his arousal hidden away in his sweatpants an annoyed glance, a particular wrecked sob from a certain German finally caving his carnal desires in. Despite the mortification that flooded throughout his entire being Kapkan couldn’t help but teasingly palm the front of his trousers, the soft touches sparking a delicious electricity that rivaled the shame he felt for intruding on an act so private and intimate. The predatory part of him that he hid away that was only seen during the long days spent stalking and hunting woodland animals in Russia’s great forests relished in the power he suddenly had. As if he was a great beast watching two small rodents that were unaware of the hungry beast eying them; living in sweet oblivion to their demise only a few feet away.

Kapkan’s breath hitched in his throat as he continued to fondle himself to the sounds, immersing himself in fantasies. Fantasies he’s never dabbled in before;images of a vaguely familiar masculine face pleasing him with an icy blue gaze that pierced through his soul. Kapkan felt disgusted at himself for having such thoughts yet if anything, the deviancy of the ideas playing in his mind just spurred him on more. He‘d never quite known of his own interest in men-always pushed the ideas he’d get during particularly horny nights in the back of his mind yet he‘d always come harder thinking of the toughness of masculinity than the softness of feminity. 

But right now, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get off like this, he needed_ more_. With trembling hands, Kapkan lowered his sweatpants just low enough to free his erection before grasping it firmly. Kapkan's muscles tensed at the cold touch on his cock before he relaxed against the wall in front of him, forehead resting against the hard surface. Kapkan stayed like this for a blissful moment, relishing in the contact he gave himself with languid strokes and occasionally teasing the head of his cock, imagination going haywire to the sounds of lust that tore away at his already shaken composure.

Kapkan never considered himself as a particularly selfish person, and would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for the sake of a mission or for a friend and teammate. Yet here he was, selfishly stealing away the privacy his coworkers desired for his own pleasure. Kapkan harshly nibbled his bottom lip in an attempt to hold in shakey fear-driven breaths, adrenaline pulsing in his bloodstream and roaring in his head. He-he could take_ more,_ couldnt he? The source of his prominent arousal are behind the walls he’s leaning against, _and_ the door was cracked open a bit. He could just glance in, get an idea of what it is that has the two operators in such blissed out pleasure and stop. He’s already intruded far more than he should have, what difference would it make if he just decided to go all out?

_ Just a taste._ The spetsnaz defender thought, lust blocking out any logical thinking as he peered over into the small crack in the doorway. The lights were shut off, so it was rather difficult for Kapkan to make out the explicit details of the scene at first-atleast until his eyes adjusted to the darkened room. Situated on the bed Kapkan could make out the bulky figures of Jäger and Fuze, with the broader Uzbekistan operator towering over the lithe body of the German. Thankfully Jäger’s head was faced away from him, and Fuze was far more interested on attacking Jäger’s neck with his mouth instead of watching the door to the room. Albeit difficult, Kapkan could vaguely make out the flow and shapes of their bodies moving against eachother in a specialized dance of pure love. Each thrust from Fuze was slow and deliberate and caused Jäger to let out a shaky whimper nearly every time, arching his back and holding onto Fuze as if he was on the brink of falling. The scene in front of him was undescribable, and he couldn’t find the right word in his mother tongue or English to describe it. Yet it was beautiful and loving, and ate at the lonely void tearing holes in his heart. They were the very definition of love;slow touches and kisses deliberate not for their own pleasure-but for the mere act of being as close to one another as possible. If he had the talent, Kapkan would paint a pretty picture of the events laid out to him. 

However, another part of Kapkan was disgusted by it all-remnants of the stigmas of homosexuality still very prevalent in his mentality. The problem didn’t lie with the two men and their budding relationship however, but with himself. Disgust at _his_ own arousal. Disgust at _his_ own thoughts. Disgust at _his_ own needs, wants, and _desires_ to be in any one of their positions with another man-not just specifically Jäger or Fuze. He craved it and every thrust, gasp, and moan elicited from the two only drove Kapkan further and further into his hazy lust. Kapkan started to thrust desperately into his hand, eyes boring into the back of Jäger’s neck and tried his best to match the vague pace of Fuze’s thrusting.

Kapkan could feel himself getting close to his own edge, hips and breathing stuttering. Biting into his hand, Kapkan tried his best to muffle his own noises as he came into his hand. Chest heaving, Kapkan stared at his defiled hand-regret and disgust immediately replacing the crazed arousal he’d felt earlier. Kapkan’s eyes watered at this predicament and immediately wiped his hands on his pants and shirt-grimacing at the now dirtied clothing before tucking himself back in. _Holy shit, did he really just do that? Get off to two men-two friends_? Kapkan felt his body tremble, glancing back into the crack of the doorway one last time-studying the two lovers in grim detail. They seemed to have both finished as well and were sitting upright so their chests were pressed together. Jäger was giggling and mumbling something in his native tongue to Fuze, and although Kapkan couldn’t understand it-it had Fuze smiling and laughing shyly into his neck.

“Я тоже тебя люблю” He heard Fuze reply, the sentence dissolving Kapkan into self-hating mush. This vivid display of intimacy was too much for Kapkan-each soft whisper and “i love you” felt like a stab to his heart that only made him realize just how lonely he actually was. Kapkan continued to watch the two interact in a rare genuine display of love, frozen in place when he should really just leave. Forget that this happened, and-_ Oh, Fuck._

Kapkan tensed, feeling his entire body tremble when he realized that Fuze’s eyes were now meeting his-bearing daggers right through his soul. The Uzbekistan’s piercing gaze felt like bullets through his skin and he could almost taste the fear, indignation, and disgust radiating off his fellow Spetsnaz operator. Jäger seemed immune to his partner’s sudden mood change however and remained lax, back still facing away from Kapkan in euphoric ignorance-too involved in his partner and the afterglow of sex to notice the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Keeping bitter eyecontact, Fuze began kissing sloppily onto Jäger’s neck over the multiple marks adorning the German’s lower neck and shoulders, making sure to show as much tongue and teeth as possible to Kapkan in a possessive display of love._"He's mine."_ he could practically hear Fuze say-and that was fine. Kapkan wasn’t interested in either of the two, wasn’t even remotely interested in men in general. He caught himself saying that a lot .

_ “I’m not interested in men, I’m not interested in men, I’m not interested in men.“ _he found himself saying to himself over and over again later that night long after he’d scurried away from Fuze’s room in shame-dreading having to face the man early in the morning.

“Im not interested in men” he said when he’d begun taking a shower to clean himself of the filth from earlier, wiping the dried cum off his hands-the evidence of his lie flowing down into the shower drain.

“Im not interested in men” he said when he’d begun to get rid of the sweatpants he used to sleep in an hour later, disposing them in the trash because they were a remnant of the horrible act of indecency and putting them on again would only remind him of his horrific crime. 

“Im not interested in men” he said while simultaneously pumping his hard cock for the second time that night whilst images of soft blue eyes and sharp masculine features played in his mind and imagined the hands on his dick were of someone else. Someone more rougher.

“I’m not interested in men” was a mantra he repeated over and over again in his mind when he came with a loud moan.

He neglected to say it when he fell asleep to ideas forming in his mind of rare smiles, a certain blue gaze staring lovingly at him, and rough calloused hands so used to holding pencils and paint brushes holding his. 

\- -

Breakfast wasn’t as insufferable as he’d thought it’d be.

Kapkan made sure to wake up later than normal to prevent himself from being forced to interact or see Fuze without the sanctuary of the rest of his teammates, and cringed any time his mind drifted to those cold green eyes from last night. By the time he’d made it to mess hall, it was already bustling with activity. Kapkan situated himself with his fellow countrymen, making sure to ignore the intense gaze that made Kapkan’s breath hitch in his throat from Fuze.

“Goodmorning, so nice of you to join us sleeping beauty.” He heard Tachanka greet warmly in their shared language with an open smile that immediately filled Kapkan with relief. They didn’t know of his creepy behavior-not that he was entirely worried about it. Kapkan doubted Fuze would ever tell them, or atleast not until he’d come out to them-if he ever did, but even then that was a stretch. But the possibility was still there.

“Yes, so nice of you to join us. Had any troubles sleeping last night?” He heard Fuze spit out, aggressive eyes never once leaving Kapkan’s more passive ones. Kapkan swallowed nervously, unsure of how to respond to the Uzbekistan’s taunting greeting. Kapkan glanced at Glaz who was no doubt studying him and Fuze curiously-the observant sniper quite obviously picking up on the tension between his two teammates.

“Yeah, something like that.” Kapkan mumbled out through clenched teeth before taking the empty spot next to Glaz and across from Fuze, much to his dismay, there was no escaping Fuze’s hostility now. Kapkan stayed silent as he listened to Tachanka retelling the wild events of his night and chuckled at the exaggerated descriptions while simultaneously trying to ignore the death glare Fuze gave him. Tachanka recalled how Smoke and Mute were far more interested in each other to notice that their three other drinking mates were betting on how long it’d take the two SAS operators to ditch them and indulge in each other in a more private manner. According to Tachanka, it was Thatcher who’d won the bet-proclaiming it’d only take about 15 minutes-and forced both Thermite and Tachanka to cough up 20 quid whilst saying “I know my boys better than anyone else.” The rest of their night then consisted of them drunkenly arguing and betting about who was the straightest of the three after Thermite insulted both Tachanka and Thatcher by saying “Is nobody in this goddamn base straight other than me?”-which of course in turn forced everyone to disclose of their sexual desires in women to see who was the straightest out of the group, causing a group of women behind them to wrinkle their noses in disgust much to their amusement.

Despite the good humor and positive atmosphere Tachanka was trying to introduce, he couldn’t help but feel edgy with Fuze’s presence still very prevalent in the conversation. He couldn’t help but drift his gaze to Fuze anytime women or Smoke and Mute were mentioned, and he regretted doing it every time he did because he’d always meet Fuze’s cold resentful eyes every time. He really should find the time to apologize, yet the idea of approaching him would shatter his pride-and probably his sanity.

Eventually after being tired of being ignored and not getting the reaction he wanted, Fuze moved to get up whilst mumbling something nearly incoherent before storming off out of the mess hall. Kapkan’s eyes followed Fuze’s figure leaving the hall before flicking to a worried Jäger who was sitting across the room. Kapkan couldn’t help but stare as the German began to make excuses to his GSG 9 teammates in his native tongue before following shortly after Fuze. The sight left Kapkan’s already guilt-ridden mind even more torn, and he only prayed to whatever god was out there that the two’s relationship wouldn’t be ruined by his selfish and lust-driven actions.

“What’s up with Shuhrat?” He heard Tachanka inquire after a few uncomfortable moments of silence. There was no reply or explanation offered from him. Kapkan let out a shaky sigh, placing his head on his hands and tried his best to stop himself from trembling. He was breaking, and he couldn’t let himself collapse in front of his teammates;his pride refused to let them see right through to his weakness.

“Maybe he’s just in one of _those_ moods again.” He heard Finka offer, and that explanation seemed to satisfy Tachanka enough because shortly after he could vaguely hear details of the conversation they were having beforehand continue but he wasn’t listening. How could he? He was too distracted by the feeling of Glaz’s curious gaze studying him inquisitively. He couldn’t blame him, Kapkan was a crime scene. Evidence of guilt and shame practically plastered all over his usual confident demeanor.

“Have you guys noticed Fuze’s trying to learn German? He’s got a German dictionary on his phone that he’s been using in his freetime-and says he’s been taking lessons from Blitz and IQ. Probably even bought a Rosetta Stone.” The change in topic brought by Finka so suddenly was enough for Kapkan to snap his head up in alarmed dismay, because_ of course he is_. He cares about the man that much and Kapkan probably ruined their relationship, or at the very least their chemistry for a good while. He turned his head until he was staring right at Glaz, amusement glinting in his brilliant blue eyes. _He knows. He sees right through me._ Kapkan’s thoughts began to cloud, guilt drowning him in worries for the relationship he probably just wrecked-racing thoughts drowning out Tachanka’s boisterous laughter. He really needed to seek Fuze out and apologize to him-offer an explanation for his unruly actions before it tore him apart.

\- -

The normally silent room that offered Kapkan comfortable escape from his troubles did little to soothe the storm that ached his heart. Kapkan stared blankly at the pale walls of his room with Glaz a few feet away with a sketchbook in hand, steady gaze staring intently on Kapkan’s stilled form while careful hands performed miracles on the blank pages of the sketchbook that still to this day left Kapkan awestruck. Kapkans eyebrows furrowed as he thought back to the previous night, mind wandering back despite his best efforts to the delicious sight he’d witnessed that left him with shame. and he couldn’t help but feel a _certain_ pair of green eyes from a _certain_ Uzbekistan operator permanently stare holes into his guilt ridden body. Shifting his gaze, Kapkan stared intently at his fellow countryman across the room.

This was something they begun to do every now and then when they both had the time (which seemed to be nearly every day now), Glaz in desperate need of something to study for the sake of practicing his hobby, and Kapkan relishing in the pride of being able to have the rare opportunity of someone drawing him for free. It was _their_ thing, and they both often took this time they had together to learn more about each other than they normally would anywhere else. Here in the privacy of one of their rooms, they were free to express themselves to each other with whatever it was they were willing to share. Without this arrangement Kapkan probably would never have learned about Glaz’s worries about his art being a useless endeavor, and Glaz would’ve probably never known about Kapkan’s prevalent fears of his family’s disappointment for his choice of joining the military no matter how successful he was in his career. However today, there was nothing to be said between them. Kapkan didn’t try for smalltalk and Glaz hasn’t tried to initiate it so far either. Kapkan took this time to study Glaz, familiarizing himself with every scar and quirk he could. Kapkan watched in fascination at every stroke his calloused hands would do as he drew. Kapkan has witnessed this man in action, has faced him in close quartered hand-to-hand combat during training sessions that left him bloody and bruised. Kapkan has personally seen him break bones and knock men unconscious, and so it amazed him every time how soft and fluid he became when sketching or painting.

Kapkan revelled in this newfound admiration before moving his gaze up to Glaz’s face that was scrunched up in concentration. Kapkan couldn’t help but feel his throat tighten each time those striking blue eyes flicked to meet his, and made a mental note of how the corner of Glaz’s lip twitched upwards each time he became slightly amused at whatever it was he was drawing. Kapkan shifted to gloss over Glaz’s broad and sturdy physique. Although both operators were nearly the same in their physical state, he couldn’t help but be amazed nonetheless. The sharp angles of his muscular body seemed so inviting to Kapkan, and he couldnt help but toy with the incessant deviant thoughts that began to flood his mind.

Deviant thoughts such as what would it be like to hold his hand? Hug him? But the all more prevalent one being what it’d feel like to have his body over his against a wall-or any surface really. Kapkan wasn’t picky. Would it be similar to how it is when he was with women? Or would it be nicer? rougher? What kind of cologne did he wear? Kapkan was always irked by the stench of perfume, yet the familiarity of cologne was something Kapkan wasn’t deterred from. Maybe he could snatch a t-shirt from him and find out for himself-

“Maxim, you’re never this still when we do this. You’re distracted, what’s going on with you?” Kapkan immediately became flustered, staring agape upon realizing that Glaz no longer was sketching him-the book was neglected on the desk beside to the wooden chair Glaz was sitting in. How long had he been finished? How long has Glaz realized he’d been staring at him? Was he really that distracted thinking about such idiotic thoughts? Embarrassed, Kapkan opened his mouth to respond yet words neglected him. There was so much he wanted to say, everything bothering him brewing up a storm in his mind yet despite it all he couldn’t find the right words._ Oh, Timur too much is wrong and it’s entirely my fault. I might’ve just ruined our friend’s own relationship due to my selfish, disgusting, perverted actions. I jacked off twice to two men fucking, and now I cant stop thinking about what you fucking smell like. Im not gay, i-i’m not-there’s no possible way. I need to apologize to Shuhrat but I cant muster up the courage to face him. What if I’ve ruined our team’s entire dynamic?_

“Nothing,” was what Kapkan eventually responded with after a few silent moments, much to Glaz’s dismay. He could see the way Glaz reproached him with a cold look, disbelief glinting in his blue eyes at being so obviously lied to.

It nearly tore Kapkan apart.

\- -

Kapkans unoccupied hand gripped tightly onto his bedsheets, eyes shut and face twisted in pleasure as his steady hand worked on his shaft. Shaky breaths left his mouth, and each swipe of his thumb against the head of his cock left him more and more disheveled and desperate. Groaning, Kapkan thrusted into his grip, imagination providing detailed images of a hot wet mouth replacing his pre-cum slick hand. Sharp sparks of pleasure ruptured throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but form details of the mysterious body that he imagined to be sucking him off. Broad shoulders and bulky muscle was prominent. Sharp angles replaced the soft contours, and Kapkan nearly whined at the desire to run his hands all over the imaginary body and feel the muscle trapped under the skin. His thrusts started to become more erratic as he was desperately trying to find release. Kapkan imagined the body of his pretend lover gazing up at him with piercing blue eyes, thin lips stretched around the thick girth of his cock and-

“_Timur_,” Kapkan moaned shamelessly, pumping faster on his dick as his thrusting began to sputter.

“_T-Timur please,_” he sobbed quietly out into the darkness of the night, despite knowing his lust derived pleas fell on deaf ears. He came with a muffled cry and stilled, basking in the afterglow of his release until the realization that he’d just gotten off to one of his closest _male_ friends struck him. Kapkan remained frozen in fear because this had to stop, he-he couldnt go on like this. It wasn’t right-not only had he gotten hopelessly aroused at the idea of being sexual with another man, he’d jacked off to his own friend. A friend who was probably not interested in men in the slightest. A forbidden fruit of which he’ll never have the pleasantry of tasting. Kapkan stared at the ceiling of his room before he moved off his bed to clean himself up, eyes glancing to the stool and desk Glaz had sat in only hours ago sheepishly. Kapkan stilled upon noticing something that didn’t belong on the flat surface of his desk, its familiarity teasing until he soon realized that it was Glaz’s sketchbook. Glaz never left this thing out of his sight, and would certainly never forget to take it back to his room so why was it here?

Curiosity ate at him, and despite his best efforts-he couldnt help the nagging feeling to glance through it regardless. He’d already intruded on the privacy of Fuze and Jäger-why should he just add fuel to the fire? Yet the book’s elusive nature drew him in the more he thought about it like a siren’s song to a sailor. Captivating and deadly. He probably has already seen most of the sketches in Glaz’s sketchbook anyways, and looking at silly sketches in a book wasn’t the same as watching two coworkers fuck.

As he’d guessed, many of the sketches in the beginning of the book were of things he’d already been shown. Sketches of their time together where Kapkan offered himself as a study for Glaz, certain areas at the base, and other beautiful miscellaneous pieces that although were of no immediate interest to him he could still appreciate the talent of. As far as he knew, Kapkan was the only operator on base with whom he shared his work with and he tried his best not to flare up with pride at the thought. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips as he flipped through the pages of the book. Alot of them were of him, not that he was particularly surprised. They had been spending alot of their time together like they had a few hours prior, where Kapkan would just be doing literally anything and Glaz would just come over and start sketching out whatever Kapkan was occupying himself with. Kapkan huffed in amusement at a more recent page of Twitch and IQ working diligently together on something at the workshop. Kapkan licked the tips of his fingers before turning the page once more.

Kapkan froze in fear, dropping the sketchbook on the floor as if its sudden touch burned him, sending a few loose papers flying out all over the floor of his room. Kapkan felt as if he lost the ability to breath as he stared down at the sketchbook that was now on the floor, eyes widening over the drawing detailing the events of last night. An event he _thought_ he’d be able to forget about, yet here it was. Right in front of him tearing back open the healing wound and slicing deeper than it had before because this means that Glaz saw._ He knew._

Kapkan trembled as he crouched onto the floor, trembling hands reaching for the sketchbook. A sketched out Kapkan, leaning his head against the wall whilst peering into Fuze’s bedroom with one hand wrapped around his cock while and other slammed against his mouth stared right back at him. The drawing was sloppy and far less detailed than any of his normal works, meaning Glaz didn’t stay for long. Just long enough to get a basic sketch down as proof of his shameful actions without drawing enough attention and dear god-how did Kapkan not realize? He was usually so boastful of his self awareness.

Enraged, Kapkan tore out the page from the sketchbook before going through the entire book and afterwards impulsively ripping out every single sketch Glaz had ever done of him and crumbling those on the floor of his room, even the ones of him that had nothing to do with last night. Kapkan let out a choked out sob, not even realizing before hand he’d been tearing up. Anger was on the forefront of his mind, because_ how dare Glaz?_ How dare he redraw such an embarrassing mistake? How dare he make him feel like this? How dare he, with his pretty blue eyes, ill timed quips and distant yet genuine concern make him feel so_ depraved_ and _lonely_.

Kapkan couldn’t remember a time where he genuinely cried. Sure there were times, like last night, where he’d gotten so frustrated to a point where his eyes would water and he’d tremble in anger-but it was never ever like this. He never cried. Never sobbed until he couldn’t breathe. Never cried out until he got a horrendous migraine, and yet here he was. A broken pitiful man, crying on the floor of his room clutching tightly onto the ripped out sketches of himself. Sketches that were no doubt important to his closest friend, who trusted him with his sketchbook. An object his friend treasured and loved, and in his own uncontrolled rage destroyed half the pieces in it that were completely innocent. 

Kapkan woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a strain in his neck from sleeping on the floor, surrounded by the sketches that came from his best friend’s sketchbook. Some sheets had visible tear streaks that smudged the thick pencil marks, while others were crumpled and ripped to shreds. The loose sketches that managed to survive were carefully placed back in the sketchbook, guilt gnawing at his belly.

The sketchbook had been significantly lighter than before.

\- -

The harsh blunt sound of the sketchbook hitting the Spetsnaz’s table in the relatively empty mess hall along with an arranged pile of miscellaneous sketches was a deafening sound. After pussyfooting around in his room trying to find the best way to approach the situation, this was what he figured to be the most effective. Stay silent, let Glaz draw out his own words and explain. Kapkan remained quiet as his eyes burned holes into Glaz’s frame, anger pooling in his stomach as he watched Glaz flip through the torn sketchbook wordlessly with an aura of faint smugness. As if it was _expected_, and Kapkan found himself getting increasingly angry at Glaz’s calm demeanor that rivalled his storming one. Glaz’s hands stilled at each torn page, and looked up every so often as if he wanted to address something to Kapkan but refrained. He _expected_ this reaction, and he knew what happened. Couldn’t find the words himself to tell him and confront him about it so he drew it and left it to show him. Kapkan prided himself on his normally unpredictable behavior so he fumed at how well Glaz knew him. Glaz probably knew Kapkan better than Kapkan knew himself, and that thought worried him immensely because how dare he? Who did he think he was? Anger brewed in his stomach the longer he stayed around his friend, fingernails digging harshly into the palms of his hands as he tried his best to contain himself. If he lashed out, he’d feed right into Glaz’s expectations.

Kapkan gave one final look at Glaz before turning away, worried that any small movement or sound from Glaz might finally break him and unleash the storm that was brewing in his mind. He couldn’t let that happen-no not with everyone around. All the peering eyes would surely-

“Maxim!” Kapkan stilled, muscles tensing at hearing the familiar voice call his name. Swallowing his pride, Kapkan turned stiffly to address the other operator coldly. This was when it was all going to come out-he’d forever be exposed here in front of all his coworkers and labelled as a creep. He might have to finally quit and cut contact with everyone, return home filled with shame and work back in the factory with his parents and siblings. Hell, maybe he'd just get a new identity and fake his death because he certainly couldn’t bear who he was now or return back home-

“You forgot one.” Glaz walked up and shoved a freshly torn page roughly onto his chest before grabbing his sketchbook and walking off and out of the hall. Kapkan stayed frozen in place as he tried to analyze their interactions before turning the crumbled paper Glaz gave him a few moments prior. On it was Kapkan sitting lazily down on his bed cleaning one of his more cherished weapons with a genuine smile that he flashed very rarely plastered on his face. Kapkans eyes watered at the memories he contributed to the page. It’d been one of the first times where the two finally opened up to each other about their backgrounds, fears, and aspirations. Kapkan was pretty sure he’d finally made Glaz laugh that night. It was a warm laugh that rumbled in his chest and rivalled his usually cool attitude brought on by nothing but Kapkan’s cleverly timed words and jokes. Kapkan flushed at the thought, anger dissipating into one of remorse. Remorse for how he treated Glaz, remorse for how he treated Fuze-remorse for how he treated himself.

He really needed to set things right as soon as possible.

\- -

It was easier said than done.

Kapkan couldn’t help but freeze up any time he went to find Fuze, ditching his half-assed plan of apologizing to him whenever he saw him hanging around anyone else-and that happened quite a lot. Fuze was almost always with Jäger-much to Kapkan's relief that he hadn’t forced Fuze to isolate himself from his lover with his intrusion-or he'd be with Glaz. Sometimes he’d find Fuze trying to speak in German to Blitz and IQ and was no doubt butchering each pronunciation horrendously judging by the amused glint in their eyes and repetition of unfamiliar phrases. Regardless, Kapkan found it increasingly difficult to catch Fuze by himself. He should really just walk up to Fuze and resolve things assertively, yet each time he saw Fuze conversing with other operators on base he was filled with fear._ “They know, they all know what I did.“_ Tormented his mind and blocked out any sort of rational thinking. Kapkan never took himself as a coward, yet to be fair he hadn’t been feeling very much like himself recently either.

\- -

He finally caught Fuze alone a few nights later when Kapkan was plastered, hanging onto the walls of the base near their barracks with clenched fists and valiantly trying not to spew the bile rising in his throat. Fuze had been the one to find him there and reproached him with the same look one would give a sick dog yet nonetheless assisted him back to his room. Kapkan clutched onto Fuze’s jacket that night until his knuckles turned white, the silence between them was suffocating and only proved more that he _really_ needed to sort this out. Fuze had always kept to himself, yet now it was overbearing. When they finally reached Kapkan’s room, Fuze stilled and addressed Kapkan coldly.

“Are you going to stay here all night and cling to my jacket?” Fuze said with a sneer and Kapkan could practically _feel_ the irritation radiating off his body.

“I’m sorry.” Kapkan blurted out vaguely as he stumbled into his room, unceremoniously tipping over the things littering on the floors of his room and grasped onto whatever he could to keep himself steady until he fell onto his bed. Kapkan didn’t bother trying to get rid of the dirty clothes or snuggle into the soft confines of his comforter as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him. Kapkan’s eyes felt heavy yet he continued trying to fight the temptation of giving in to sleep.

“Im sorry.” Kapkan repeated without specification, voice cracking midway through. Fuze let out a small grunt in acknowledgement before mumbling a_ ‘stay here’_ as if Kapkan was in any state to move before walking out of the room, returning shortly after with bottled water and Aspirin and set them on his desk mumbling_ ‘for the morning,’. _The two men stayed in an uncomfortable silence until sleep finally won the battle and overtook Kapkan.

Kapkan woke up the next morning hungover and full of regrets. Fuze was sleeping in his room too, head resting and slouching over the desk in a position that was definitely uncomfortable. The sight of his friend and the memories of Fuze’s help-even if it was hostile and distant-pained him because it proved that Fuze didn’t completely hate Kapkan. Still vaguely cared about him even if it was the same care one would give to an ugly stray dog. Kapkan moved towards the bottled water and Aspirin Fuze set out for him a few hours ago, groaning when a particular sharp throb of his head sent sparks of pain throughout him. Fuze stirred at his pained sounds and let out a confused noise as he groggily sat up, a hand clasping around the back of his neck to ease the stiffness he no doubt harbored from the uncomfortable sleeping position. Kapkan stared silently at the Uzbekistan, relishing in the few moments of peace before the storm.

When Fuze’s gaze landed on Kapkan, both men froze. Fuze said nothing, tensing up as he waited for Kapkan to make the first move. The elephant in the room was suffocating both of them, and Kapkan was both relieved and reluctant to _finally_ face this particular demon head on.

“I’m sorry,” seemed like a good start to Kapkan yet it seemed to be the complete opposite to Fuze-whos eyebrows immediately knit together. Anger flared in his eyes as he glared at Kapkan in disdain that made him wince.

“You’re fucking kidding me, Maxim. Enough with the ‘I’m sorry’s’. I got enough of them from you last night!” Fuze spat out, and okay-he definitely deserved whatever anger Fuze harbored to him yet no matter how hard he tried to prepare himself for it, it still stung.

“I-I dont know what I was thinking Shuhrat, you two were just-” Kapkan was interrupted by a harsh _‘shut up!’_, more silence following after. Kapkan bit his tongue as he studied Fuze, irritated at all the words and explanations he had running through his head yet unable to get them out. Fuze seemed to be hesitating over his words, opening and closing his mouth and letting out frustrated grunts.

“Forget it. It never happened. I dont care anymore, just get it out of your mind but never _ever_ do it again.” Fuze finally said after a few moments, to which Kapkan let out a small noise of relieved agreement. Shortly after, Fuze let out a small sigh and rubbed the temples of his forehead. Kapkan’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized just how fucked up hes been-Fuze no doubt holding the same amount of fear as he had. Fear at being found out, fear of Kapkan potentially holding this little secret over his head as blackmail._ I’ve been so selfish and unfair,_ Kapkan thought painfully and felt suddenly silly about worrying about what’d happen to _him_ without thinking about what’d happen with _Fuze_.

“Who knows? About you and the German?”

“Nobody but you knows for sure-I’m sure Timur and Marius’s teammates have their suspicions but neither of us have told anyone.“ Fuze noticeably relaxed at the shift in their conversation. Silence followed after Fuze’s statement, however much to Kapkan’s surprise it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. The atmosphere was one of contentment and change and Kapkan relished in the brief respite. It didn't last very long however.

“And who knows about you? Have you told him, or have you been dancing around him as you have to me?”

Confusion.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Timur-have you told him?” There was an amused glint in Fuze’s eyes that Kapkan didn’t like, suspicious towards Kapkan’s sudden defense. A challenge. Flustered, Kapkan set his water bottle on the desk between him and Fuze much more harshly than intended.

“Tell him _what_, Shuhrat?” Kapkan hissed through clenched teeth, headache roaring throughout him at the sudden tension he felt arising from the sudden change in conversation. Shuhrat let out a pained laugh as he got up from the desk chair and Kapkan couldn’t help but flinch at the sharp screech of wooden legs scraping against the wooden tile yet the harsh noise was much more welcome than Fuze’s previous words. Fuze walked off, stopping by the frame of the door in sudden thought. Fuze turned to Kapkan one last time before leaving.

“You can’t live like this, Maxim. No matter how hard you try. I know what it’s like-please just do yourself the favor and tell him so I won’t have to continuously carry your drunk ass back to your room because you can’t handle yourself.”

\- -

Glaz was avoiding him.

He could see it in the way Glaz would shuffle slightly away whenever Kapkan sat down next to him, could sense it in the way he averted his gaze far away from him anytime Kapkan glanced at his direction. It’s been a week and 4 days-yes he was counting-since he returned Glaz’s sketchbook, and it was the last time they held any kind of conversation to one another. Much to Kapkan’s chagrin, Glaz hadn’t come by once to inquire about their artistic study sessions and Kapkan couldn’t help but feel a loss weigh in on his heart.

Kapkan pretended not to feel crushed when Finka offhandedly mentioned to him during a training session one day that Glaz was beginning to meet with Doc to sketch him and despite shrugging off the newfound information, Kapkan crumbled on the floor of his room later that night and unfolded all of the crushed sketches of him he still had littered in his room and hung them up over his desk. It seemed narcissistic-having all these sketches of himself hung all over his own room, yet it wasn’t about him. The drawings were Glaz’s. Drawings he treasured without a doubt, that he’d ruined and took away from him.

Despite how painful thinking about Glaz was to him, he lurked around in his mind every day. While showering he had incessant idiotic thoughts such as_ what kind of shampoo does Glaz use?_ While excercising he’d think of what kind of routine Glaz would have._ Would he start with a light warm up or get right into the nitty gritty and stretch afterwards?_ And so on, and unlike before, Kapkan didn’t even try to pretend the lustful thoughts he bore while masturbating during the wee hours of the night wasn’t Glaz anymore.

Everytime Fuze caught Kapkan staring at Glaz, a knowing smirk would tug at his lips. The smug look on Fuze’s face didn’t piss him off as much as the _“go talk to him”s_ that often left the Uzbekistan’s lips did though. _As if it was really that easy._ Kapkan wanted to just punch Fuze for even trying to suggest something so idiotic to him.

Jäger approached Kapkan timidly one day, an odd thing in it of itself because Kapkan doesn't ever remember holding a conversation with Jäger in all of their time being apart of Rainbow. That wasn’t the strangest part however, Kapkan was more suspicious of the demeanor he held. Anxiety seemed to be radiating off the German and Kapkan worried that the older operator would soon just explode with all the thoughts that seemed to be running through his head. Kapkan was stressed that this was about that one night a few weeks ago yet if it was Jäger didn’t mention it-if he’d known about it at all.

“Are you okay?” Jäger asked him after a few delayed moments, and Kapkan almost laughed at the irony in his concerns.

“What? Why do you care?” Kapkan spat out, tone laced with venom that surprised even Kapkan himself. He really wasn’t okay, and seeing the root of his problems standing in front of him feigning concern definitely wasn’t helping.

“The friend of my friend is my friend, or something like that. I think that’s how the saying goes.” Jäger offered him with a small smile that had Kapkan rolling his eyes. Kapkan didn’t respond, biting his tongue to keep himself from hissing out yet another nasty response. Jager cleared his throat after a few moments of silence, his hands dropping down to his sides as he looked to the ground as if trying to decide on how best to say what was on his mind.

“Max-you, I-scheiße.” Jager took a deep breath before continuing.

“Listen, everyone-we’re all worried about you, even though I know you barely know me. Fuze has been stressed out for the past few weeks and whenever I ask him what the problem is, he just looks at you. I was jealous at first, because I thought that maybe he’d been harboring all these feelings for you, but he told me about your problems with Timur and uhh-y‘know... But I think anyone who put the effort in can see something’s not right with either of you, you’re both dancing around each other. If you two don’t talk out your problems with each other it’s only going to get worse and I worry about what’ll happen then...”

Fuming, Kapkan turned away from the German and began walking away. He didn’t need to hear this-he wasn’t the one instigating the problems. Why did it always all come back to him? What had he done wrong in this scenario? Glaz was the one ignoring him. It was Glaz._ Glaz, Glaz, Glaz._ Kapkan tightened his fists and he suddenly began to feel very confined in the tight halls of the base. He didn’t hear Jäger run back up to him and shout his name, his awareness of his surroundings were nonexistent. He felt like a caged animal, he needed freedom from the stress of it all-an escape. 

“Maxim!!” Jäger called out and grabbed tightly onto Kapkan’s shoulder in a last ditch effort to stop him from walking away. Bad move because Jäger had unknowingly triggered a sudden instinct in Kapkan to fight back, all the lessons from his close-quarters training coming at him full force. Without warning Kapkan slammed the side of his elbow into the side of Jäger’s face and slammed the blunt footing of his boots onto Jäger’s ankles to knock him off balance. Jäger fell to the floor with a pained screech, knees buckling as he tumbled unceremoniously to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” Jäger cried out, holding onto the side of his face that Kapkan’s elbow had crashed into. _Fuck._

“I-Marius fuck, why would you-” Kapkan bit out as he scrambled to help Jäger up despite his insistant refusal. Kapkan let Jäger cling to his side, arms strown around his neck and shoulders as Kapkan guided Jäger to Doc’s office and tried his best to ignore all the worrying eyes that studied both operators with a curious concern while the duo walked through the base to Doc's office. When he arrived, Kapkan immediately noticed Glaz in the office along with Doc. Kapkan swallowed his pained rage as soon as Doc immediately rushed towards Kapkan and Jäger inquiring about what happened. At Kapkan’s lack of explanation, Doc became increasingly agitated and ushered both Spetsnaz operators out in order to concentrate on helping Jäger.

Kapkan and Glaz remained silent as they strayed outside Doc’s office. They seemed to be floating around each other, both having so much to say to each other yet rejecting the given opportunity to get their thoughts off their chests. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? It was the perfect opportunity, there were no prying eyes or ears and they both had each others undivided attention. Yet it was so, so difficult. They were like feral animals, circling around each other like a carousel to determine who’d make the first strike. In the end it had been Glaz who made the first _painful_ strike.

“What are we doing, Maxim?” Glaz had whispered softly, blue eyes who usually held an intense icy gaze softened remarkably when Kapkan adjusted his gaze to stare at him.

“I dont know,” Kapkan admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. Nothing was funny about this, yet Kapkan found solace in laughing about it regardless. Glaz shuffled off the wall he was leaning against and moved in closer to Kapkan until he could practically feel the heat radiating off Glaz’s warm body. Kapkan held his breath when Glaz got remarkably closer to him, and_ god they were so close_. Kapkans mind fogged as he stared at every scar, hair, and outline of Glaz’s face jotting it down into his memory.

“What’s wrong, please, tell me. I’ve had enough of this, just let me know. Please, i’m tired of having to push you away.” Glaz pleaded, and-_fuck_-this was genuine. This wasn’t thought out, devised ahead of time and planned like Glaz typically does. It was all so personal and intimate. Kapkan didn’t trust his words. How could he explain his feelings in such simplicity with their language?

Wordlessly, Kapkan pressed his lips hesitantly against Glaz’s. Kapkan relished in the small surprised sound that rumbled in the back of Glaz’s throat, yet the sniper made no effort to pull away. Instead Glaz tilted his head more to the side to mold their lips more perfectly together. It definitely wasn’t an earth shattering experience but it was still a very pleasant experience nonetheless. Kapkan tried his best to ignore the warm hand that encased his hip for his own sanity's sake, and for the first time in weeks Kapkan felt content. He felt whole, and nothing else mattered to Kapkan more than what was currently happening now. Kapkan didn’t even notice the movement that flowed in his periphery vision, nor the hushed voices of concern mingling a few feet away until both men moved away to catch their breath. 

“That‘s certainly one way to get things moving. Mission accomplished, good work.” Kapkan heard and snapped his gaze alarmedly towards the figures of the enraged Fuze and vaguely amused Jäger. Doc was lingering around as well though he seemed indifferent to the situation, far more concerned about Jäger’s state of being than the events that just unfolded right outside his office’s door as if nothing _phenomenal_ just happened. Kapkan became increasingly flustered-how long had they been standing there?

“Maxim, ты сукин сын, I’m going to beat your _goddamn_ ass.” Fuze hissed at him, the threat immediately going over his head when he felt Glaz give his hip a small squeeze before moving away sheepishly. Kapkan was too busy thinking about all he still had yet to say to Glaz to care much for whatever hostility left Fuze’s mouth. The harsh blow to his cheek from Fuze shortly after didn’t even phase Kapkan all that much and instead left him more giddy than before because_ he’d just kissed Glaz_-and Glaz had enthusiastically kissed him _back_.

“Shuhrat! Merde, can I _please_ not have one more patient to worry after?!” Kapkan heard Doc immediately yell out in agitation. Kapkan laughed softly, eyes locking with Glaz’s as Doc went over to fuss over the place where Fuze had just struck.

They still had a lot to talk about but that was okay.

They’ll be okay.

\- -

That night, Kapkan took his time exploring every section of Glaz he could get his hands on.

After the incident resorting Jäger, both he and Jäger apologized to each other. Jäger for overstepping his boundaries (which was ironic in itself considering what Kapkan had done weeks prior), and Kapkan for obviously physically attacking him. They found a common ground and left on a good note, and although Kapkan was sure Fuze was still fuming at him he didn’t threaten or hurt him anymore. Kapkan was certain he’d get a chewing out from Tachanka and probably got put on a permanent shit list of every GSG 9 member, but Kapkan wasn’t worried about that.

Glaz stopped by Kapkan’s room later on in the night, sketchbook in hand, and started the routine of sketching Kapkan. Glaz had noticed his sketches hanging up above the desk he was situated at, and Kapkan flushed at the warm look Glaz had given him before starting on his work. Their conversation wasn’t as awkward or as tense as he thought it’d be (though he did notice the way they both shied away from talking about what happened _one certain night a few weeks ago._ It was still a sore subject for both of them.)

Kapkan finally admitted to his feelings, with Glaz reciprocating them just as- if not more-eagerly and rambled on about harboring attraction to Kapkan for an exceedingly long time that just grew the closer they’d gotten. Glaz explained his reasoning for pushing Kapkan way as a way to ease the tension between them:give them both time to cool off from one another before the stress ate at them and tore their friendship apart. The revelation was a relief to Kapkan, and he made a mental note to keep that situation as a possible red flag in the future for possible problems concerning their relationship.

They spent the night together, exploring each other wordlessly. Soft touches and kisses were shared instead that spoke much more volume than any of their words could ever. Kapkan enthusiastically explored Glaz’s mouth with his tongue while Glaz roamed his hands down Kapkan’s body, nimble fingers dancing down every curvature and sharp dip of Kapkan’s body that left him breathless and needy.

Kapkan would’ve never expected Glaz’s most sensitive part of his body to be his neck and Kapkan made sure to exploit every newfound weakness to his advantage, relishing in the soft sounds Glaz made every time he found a particular sensitive area and ravaged it with sloppy kisses and playful bites.

They both admitted to their inexperience with men and shared a knowing look as thoughts of their motherland came into their minds. The disapproval and disappointment they’d face was something they both were aware of, and it flooded Kapkan with a momentary sense of dread. Yet when he looked at Glaz and his blue eyes, the feeling washed away. This was safety;Glaz was his sanctuary. They could worry about this another day, but not today. Tonight was about them, not the worried of the outside world.

They settled for hand jobs that night, neither of them being prepared and lacking the right supplies to go through with actual sex, but that was okay. They were going to take things slow, one thing at a time. Kapkan doubted he was ready mentally to go so far into things so soon anyways. Besides, Kapkan still got to watch Glaz come apart under his own hands, and Kapkan got the pleasure of having Glaz’s calloused hands stroke up and down his hard shaft. Hands he’s watched multiple times create gorgeous works of art and simultaneously knock someone unconscious. Hands that were soft and careful just for him, tearing him apart one second at a time and this was so much better than a lonely night spent by himself. Glaz murmured sweet praises in their mother language to him in his ear as that damned hand completely destroyed him, reducing him to nothing but a shaking mess. Kapkan came harder than he’d ever came before, watching Glaz through half lidded eyes as the man brought his hand up to his mouth and cleared his hand of Kapkan’s seed, running a tongue over the fingers while maintaining eye-contact. It was painfully erotic and intimate, and he moaned loudly at the sight much to Glaz’s own amusement.

Despite their exhaustion, they both stayed awake basking in their shared warmth. The bed was far too small for both operators to fit comfortably, so that meant they had to improvise and deal with what they had and press their naked bodies against each other. Although Kapkan was by no means a very big enthusiast for cuddling, this was nice and Kapkan melted into Glaz’s warm embrace. He was like a cat, giving in selfishly to the touches and relished in the attention Glaz gave him and nearly purred when the other Russian ran his fingers down his back. Glaz was cautious with his touches much to Kapkan‘s disappointment, yet refrained nonetheless from just straight up grabbing Glaz‘s hand and guiding his movements. 

Despite the overwhelming amount of distress, confusion, and ignorance that flooded the past few weeks-Kapkan finally felt content with himself sharing the bed with Glaz. Kapkan was sure this special thing they shared wouldn’t be perfect seeing as they both were far from perfect themselves. However, as Kapkan stayed staring at the chair from across the room where Glaz had previously been situated in a few hours prior with a discarded sketch book taking its place and a warm body pressed up behind him and an occasional snore…

Kapkan figured they were going to be okay.


End file.
